Regrets
by slow-dawn
Summary: Obi-Wan is alone with his thoughts and memories, wondering what might have been.


**Title**: Regrets  
**Author**: slowdawn  
**Timeframe**: A few years after ROTS  
**Characters**: Obi-Wan Kenobi (Benreally in this fic...)  
**Genre**: Angst, Vignette  
**Summary**: Obi-Wan is alone with his thoughts and memories, wondering what might have been.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars and all that jazz.  
**Notes**: Thanks to brodiew for the beta.

This was inspired by a challenge posed in the Naberrie Household Vignette-Challenge Thread. PM me if you'd like a link.

This is another vignette that I wrote in 2006. Enjoy!

--

Ben sat in his bed, leaning against the wall. An old lamp provided the room's only light. He could feel the chill of the desert night, but he liked it that way--it provided much needed relief from the oppressive heat of the day. As he glanced out the window, he noted that cold stars had now replaced the heat of twin sun's glow.

The stars…

How long since see he had called them his home? He hadn't been keeping track. Time's flow meant little to him now. A few years, perhaps? It didn't matter. For Ben, each day contained a lifetime—one spent wishing for what might have been, wondering how things had gone so terribly wrong. But, for what it was worth, a lifetime on his desert home might have been a blink of an eye.

He stroked his beard, lost in thought.

--

Ben Kenobi stood facing the setting suns, squinting his eyes against the dust swept up by wind ripping across the ever-changing landscape of the Dune Sea. _Ben _Kenobi, he reminded himself—Obi-Wan had been abandoned long ago somewhere deep inside of him.

The man exhaled slowly. His shadows lengthened and began to fade as the suns dipped below the horizon. Old memories swirled through his mind, threatening to overtake him. He gazed upwards as the vast desert sky was transformed into an angry mosaic of blood-red, violet, pink, and magenta battling for supremacy of the heavens. In his mind, swirling memories fought a similar battle for his attention.

He closed his eyes tightly and let the beating wind sweep his thoughts away.

--

Ben sat alone at a small round table, a bowl of steaming broth before him. He breathed deep the sweet aroma wafting up from the bowl. He smiled at the thought of Qui-Gon, who always complained when the dish was served in the Temple.

The smile quickly faded from his lips. Memories rushed to him of his master—his father, his brother. He remembered their last moments together—Qui-Gon's last words. _Train the boy_...no mention of Obi-Wan, just _train the boy_. No words of comfort or encouragement from his master, just a single request—nothing more, nothing less—that Ben should tend the seed that Qui-Gon had planted.

The faintest trace of a tear ran down his cheek. Ashamed, he wiped it away.  
_  
Where are you now, Qui-Gon?_

Ben wondered how different things would be if his master had survived. Qui-Gon would have trained the boy as was planned. Ben knew there had been a connection between the two of them. Perhaps Qui-Gon would have been able to handle the boy.

Perhaps Ben should have been less strict with his padawan. Perhaps it really was his fault that Anakin had drowned in the depths of the Dark Side. He knew he should have been more sensitive to the boys needs--been more of a father to him. He should have seen the way his padawan looked at the senator from Naboo. He should have confronted him sooner. Perhaps then things may have been different.

Regrets…

He looked down, bringing himself back to reality.

His soup was cold. He stared at it a moment, stepped away then looked back down. The bowl was waiting on the table, the spoon balancing precariously on the edge. It slipped off and landed with a soft clatter next to the bowl.

He bent down and picked them up, walked to the prep station, and silently poured the contents down the drain. As he exhaled, he felt his regrets slide down with it.

Ben looked out the window above the sink. He would not dwell on the past any longer. He knew he still had one more chance to put everything right.

There was another young boy in need of training...


End file.
